


A Criminal Mind

by Captainalbertalexander



Series: MCR Super Sleuths [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Gore, Crime AU, Detective!Gerard - Freeform, M/M, Policeman!Ray, Vampires, Violence, hacker!mikey, policeman!frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainalbertalexander/pseuds/Captainalbertalexander
Summary: The second installment of Instinct. This one is based on Season 5 Episode 7 of Criminal Minds, The Performer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i've been gone so long, we basically packed up our entire house in three days then we were told we shouldn't've after everything was in boxes and bins. Frustrating. We have to put our house back together now, but i wanted to let y'all know i'm still kicking.

The venue was packed, with people standing wall to wall in the cramped area. Sweat glistened on dancing bodies and the floor pulsed in time with the bass. On the stage stood a lean figure with black and white face paint covering his visage, singing heatedly into the microphone. The audience members were screaming the lyrics back and throwing their arms up, trying to even brush against the singer. The last song came to a close and the light faded out as the man onstage wished his listeners a good night. When the lights turned off all the way, he made his way off the stage as quickly as he could, eager to find solitude and quiet. As he was walking down the steps to the side of the stage, he was accosted by all manner of people; the one closest to him being his manager. 

“Best show ever, Dante! Great show!” his manager congratulated, patting the singer on the back. He was totally ignored, however. The performer pushed past his manager and through a crowd of doting fans, waiting to catch a glimpse of their favorite artist. 

When the singer reached his dressing room, he slammed the door. Unfortunately for his manager, the door was right in his face before he could try to talk to his client.

Inside the room, finally in solitude, he took a long gulp of Jack and sighed, looking around the trashed area. Angered, he threw the bottle of alcohol at the vanity against the wall, smashing the mirror. He slowly made his way towards the mirror he had destroyed, looking at his cracked reflection. He looked drained; tired and sickly. He wiped as much makeup as he could off his face with his hands, smearing it all around.

\---

Outside the venue, a trio of concert-goers were making their way home. “Did you see he looked at me?” one girl gushed. 

“Oh my God, I did, he was looking right at you,” another girl affirmed. “It was like he was looking into your soul!”

“I felt like we had this connection, you know?” the girl rambled on. The two girls were engrossed in conversation, with one boy trailing behind. They all had a head to toe black wardrobe, one girl with cyberpunk dreadlocks and the other sporting a gothic looking frilly dress and platform boots.

“Well, this is our stop,” the girl in the dress announced to the boy trailing along. He looked mildly disappointed upon realizing he no longer would have company.

“I can walk you guys to your building. It’s dark out,” he offered. 

“We can take care of ourselves, thanks,” the girls giggled. They walked away, arm in arm to their apartment complex.

When they got to their building, the two girls bid each other a good night and walked to their separate apartments. When the girl in the dress got home, she immediately started unbuckling her shoes, eager to get out of a painful pair of footwear. 

As she was undoing the large numbers of buckles on her boots, there was a knock on the door. The girl walked over to answer it, figuring it was her friend that maybe forgot something. When she opened the door, she was immediately accosted by a figure in a black cloak, the hood hiding their identity. The hooded assailant began to strangle the girl, simultaneously beating her head into the floor. 

The longer the assault went on, the weaker the girl became until she stopped struggling altogether. She fell limp and unmoving on the ground. 

\--- 

"The victim’s name was Tara Farris, twenty years old,” Detective Ray Toro announced to the room, the other three men nodding along or staring at the case files.  
“She’s the third victim in two weeks,” he went on, showing pictures on a screen for all of them to study. “All of the bodies were found on turnpike off-ramps by commuters.”

“Well, he’s not hiding them,” Detective Frank Iero commented. “An NYC freeway during morning rush hour? He wants them found. Quickly.”

The police consultant, Gerard Way, observed the pictures critically. He remarked, “All the girls’ clothing was still on… That minimizes shock value.”

“There’s no sign of sexual assault on any of the victims,” Toro informed, “but all of them were severely hypovolemic.”

“Again with this exsanguination shit?” Gerard groaned. He just wanted one homicide case without some sort of bloodletting. Was that too much to ask?

“Unfortunately, yes,” Ray said. “Tara had less than a pint in her when we found her.”

Frank read further down in the file and stated, “The ones before her had more than three pints left. If exsanguination is the goal, the killer is getting better at it.”

“Just wait, it gets better,” Ray segued. “Tara had a message written on her, unlike the other victims.” A picture appeared on the screen of Tara’s arm. Written on her arm in blood was ‘the liar.’

“The liar,” Gerard’s brother, Mikey, mused. “Not ‘a liar’ or just ‘liar’. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

“They were all strangled as well,” Frank observed. “Lying has to do with the throat, right? The lies come out of the mouth via the throat. Maybe they thought they could stop it before they came out to hurt the murderer?”

Gerard countered, “But what does the exsanguination have to do with it then?”

“I guess we don’t know yet,” Frank conceded.

Ray then put close up pictures of Tara’s neck onscreen. “These were the wounds on all of the victims to get the blood out.” The marks were circular, about two inches apart on the victim’s neck.

“Does this guy wanna play make believe vampire?” Frank scoffed. “We’ve all seen real vampire bite marks before, and I think we all can agree that this is too clinical, but too much of a coincidence.”

“I’m thinking he does wanna play, actually,” Ray interjected. “The wounds were covered in saliva.”

“Ah, shit,” Frank sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nothing’s worse than the wannabes…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) why am i obsessed with vampires? the world may never know  
> 2) if you can guess why vampires were forced out of the closet in the early 1980s, i'll high five you and call you a history nut

“You know what they used to say about us?” Gerard casually asked Frank while they were in Tara’s apartment. They had come to her residence to look for any reason or evidence as to why she was murdered. They had bagged a couple items from her home that were of interest and confiscated her laptop for Mikey.

“I dunno, what did they used to say about you?” Frank smirked.

“Not just me; my species as a whole,” Gerard said with a roll of his eyes and a twitch of his lips.

“Well, yeah,” Frank pondered, “at least I think so…” He knew that the past had not been kind to Gerard’s people. Even when the vampire community announced its presence in the eighties, the reception was less than welcoming.

“In all the darkest pages of the maligned supernatural, there is no more terrible tradition than that of the vampire; a pariah even among demons,” Gerard quoted. He picked up a book from Tara’s bookshelf in her living room, looking at it fondly.

Frank scoffed, “what dickhead said that? It sounds too pretentious for its own good.”

“He was a writer,” Gerard explained. “Montague Summers. He had a very close relationship with the occult in the nineteen hundreds.” He showed the book to his companion. It was _The Vampire: His Kith and Kin_ by Montague Summers himself.

Frank took the book and skimmed through the pages. “He sounds too judgey,” he concluded, “like he needs to mind his own damn business.”

Gerard laughed, “It was his business, actually. He wrote all kinds of books about vampires, werewolves, witches, you name it.” He took the book back from Frank and replaced it on the shelf. His eyes wandered over Tara’s other books interestedly. There seemed to be a majority of vampire books, whether they were factual or fictional.

“That was ages ago; he probably got everything wrong anyway,” Frank dismissed. He began walking to where Tara’s bedroom was. “Let’s go see where the magic happens,” he chuckled to himself.

“Even in fiction there are grains of truth, Frank,” Gerard said wisely, trailing along behind the detective.

Frank laughed, “Shut up you walking fucking encyclopedia!”

When he opened the door to Tara’s room, he was met with the color black everywhere, momentarily making him think he had stepped into some sort of cosmic void. He breathed out, “What the fuck?”

“Oh jeez,” the vampire said softly from over Frank’s shoulder. He had peeked into the bedroom over his partner, grateful for his short stature.

“You go in first and find a light switch, Prince of Darkness,” Frank said. He didn’t want to go wandering around blindly, touching God knows what.

Gerard giggled, “Prince of Darkness? I’ll have you know I was once part of the gentry!” He pulled the chain of a rather old looking lamp, bathing the room in a soft yellowish light.

“For real?” Frank gaped. “You have to tell me all about that sometime.” He looked around the newly lit room. It looked fairly normal, except the walls were covered in posters and pictures of a lone man with white face paint and black lipstick on. Scrolling letters at the bottom of some of the pictures said ‘Dante’.

“Oh my God,” Frank uttered. This was borderline obsession. “Who the fuck is this ‘Dante’ guy?”

Gerard pulled out his cellphone. “I’ll call Mikey,” he proposed. “He can do some searching for us.”

They both waited for him to pick up, Gerard having put the phone on speaker. They were greeted with a surly, “What.”

“So good to hear from you too, brother,” Gerard sassed. “We need you to look somebody up. He goes by the name of ‘Dante’.”

“He’s a singer,” Mikey responded immediately. “I don’t even have to Google him to know that. What rock have you been hiding under?”

“The rock that has good music,” Frank retorted smugly. “What makes him stand out though? To have people worship him like this? Tara’s entire room is like a shrine to him.”

“He plays the part of a vampire on stage. It’s like his ‘thing’,” Mikey explained. “He dresses up in a campy, stereotypical sort of way and has dental caps. It’s kind of weird, ‘cuz there’s, like, actual vampires out there now.”

“What makes people like him more than regular vampires?” Gerard sniffed, looking mildly offended.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him? You could easily take him down to the station for questioning if more than one of the victims obsessed over him,” Mikey suggested. “Why don’t you get a profile started and I’ll check if he’s the connection between all these girls.”

“Thanks, Mikey,” Frank called down the phone before Gerard hung up. “So, I guess let’s get back to the station and brainstorm a bit?” he offered.

“Alright,” Gerard sighed. “By the time we have a profile Mikey will be able to tell us if that’s the connection between all the victims.”

Frank cheered, “To the precinct!” before practically skipping out of the apartment.

“Coffee first!” the vampire shouted behind him.

\---

Once Gerard’s caffeine craving was satisfied with an enormous coffee in his hands, they drove back to the NYPD offices to announce the killer’s profile. Gerard stopped Frank with a delicate hand on his elbow before they got to the meeting room. He murmured, “Will you please go collect Ray and the other officers on the case? I need some time to think.”

Frank’s cheeks bloomed red like the first roses of the season. He ineloquently stuttered back, “Uh, ye-yeah, sure, I’ll just, uh,” he pointed vaguely behind himself before he practically ran off.

“What a swooning maiden,” Gerard laughed to himself as he opened the meeting room door. Before anything else, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flask, emptying its contents into what was left of his coffee. He took a sip, content with the flavor, before walking up to a large whiteboard in the room. He picked up a marker, mumbling things to himself and writing some words down. By the time Frank, Ray, and the other officers arrived, Gerard had filled the board with photographs and bullet pointed lists.

“Okay,” he sighed, satisfied with his work. He looked around happily as everyone took a seat at the long table. He loved having command of a room, relaying facts and information to an interested crowd.

“So,” he began with glee, “human blood consumption, or Clinical Vampirism, was once known as Renfield’s Syndrome, after the insect-eating character in Bram Stoker’s _Dracula_. Lord knows why they changed it,” he chuckled. “Blood consumption in humans is very different than with real vampires however, and is treated as a disorder.”

“Are they sadists?” Ray asked, gently trying to steer Gerard off of his tangent.

“Not necessarily,” Gerard mused. “The victim’s pain isn’t the goal; it’s just a side product. Humans with Renfield’s Syndrome usually also have varying levels of schizophrenia and occasionally a more classic form of cannibalism if the condition evolves.”

The assorted officers shifted uncomfortably, not exactly enjoying the subject matter.

“I will say this,” he reassured, “true cases are exceedingly rare. We’re very lucky if this is indeed a real case.”

“Maybe for you,” one of the officers said lowly. The vampire shot an icy glare his way, which immediately shut him up.

“Anyway,” he continued, “we are definitely looking for a human with a history of schizophrenia. A vampirist, not a vampire.”

Another officer spoke up. “What’s the difference?”

“A vampirist is a human with vampire- like tendencies,” Gerard explained. “It’s usually a delusion that they really are of the supernatural kind, but more than likely they will have never interacted with a real vampire their entire life. They have an obsession with blood, but not a physical need for it like real vampires do. They also might display traits of fictional vampires they’ve read about that real vampires do not have, such an aversion to garlic or religious paraphernalia.”

“There are several traits vampirists have that make it easy to identify them. They will have cut themselves repeatedly and drink the blood from the cuts, which is called auto-vampirism. This is usually the first time they get a taste for blood: from themselves. Most vampirists are incredibly ashamed of this and wear clothing to cover themselves accordingly.”

He went on, “Secondly, there will be a long history of animal abuse, starting with small animals like rodents and then working their way to larger things like cats and small dogs.”

Gerard could see Frank looking very uneasy in his spot, and he threw a sympathetic glance at him. He knew Frank hated hearing about or seeing animals hurt in any way.

“Though this is a well-recognized component of the ‘Homicidal Triad’ seen in other serial killers; in the case of the vampirist it’s more pronounced. There will, interestingly enough, not be any animal torture as with other psychopathologies. The killing isn’t the point; It’s only a way to obtain blood.”

“Look very hard at your animal control sections records,” he notified. “Try to find repeat offenders, looking back as far as you can. There will be more than likely be reports about them as an adolescent.”

“Also, this person will most likely be living with an older female in an unkempt house or an older home,” he added.

“Why is that?” Ray asked.

Gerard informed, “They need seclusion. They wouldn’t be able to get away with something like this in an apartment building. It takes time to drain a victim the way they’re doing it. The older woman would be a caretaker of sorts to the killer, because the type of mental illness present requires high maintenance and care. This severe degree of mental illness puts a large strain on a family unit, and the closest woman in the family ends up being the primary caregiver.”

“I think that’s everything,” the vampire concluded. He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Oh! Yes, this sort of condition cannot be hidden for long. I guarantee someone out there knows that this person is very, very sick. When we find them, approach with caution and try not to use violence, please. That’s all.”

\---

After the meeting had adjourned, Gerard called Mikey again for any updates. Before he could even say hello, he was cut off.

“Gee, this is fuckin’ crazy!” Mikey said. “All these girls were completely obsessed with Dante. They have blogs about him, they made a weird little fan club online,… It looks like they spent all of their free time drooling over this guy.”

“Well, I guess we can bring him in now,” Gerard supposed. Just as he was thanking Mikey for his work and ending the call, Ray rushed into the room.

“There’s another body!” he exclaimed. Apparently there’s a message on this one too!”

“Well,” Frank announced, “let’s check out the body and bring this ‘Dante’ guy in.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry i've been gone this long, a number of unfortunate things have happened recently and i haven't been coping all that well. motivation is also at an all time low (no pun intended) and writing started to seem like a chore, so i had to take a step back. i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Dante crouched over the toilet, moaning in pain and misery. He had gotten black-out drunk again and taken some girl home with him. As soon as he woke up, he felt the immediate need to get the alcoholic toxins in his stomach out. His sounds of discomfort were heard by his agent, and he came running to the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway just in time to see Dante expel his stomach contents in a violent manner. His manager went to sit with Dante, making sure he was alright. 

Once he had recovered, Dante turned to his agent and whispered, “I can’t stop… I want to, but I can’t… You’ve gotta help me…” 

“Okay buddy, I’m gonna fix all of this,” his manager reassured. “We’re gonna fix this, okay? It’ll all be over soon…”

\---

Gerard, Frank and Ray were at the latest crime scene, inspecting the area where the body was dumped. It was near a riverbank right next to the freeway. Various people were milling about, collecting evidence and writing things down. 

Gerard went over to the body, eager to see what had become of it. The girl was styled like the others, with a black dress that brushed above the knee and ankle boots. One boot had come off the victim’s foot a little ways away, most likely because the body was dragged into position. This intrigued the vampire. Why was she dragged? Could the assailant not have been able to pick her up?

Frank and Ray joined Gerard to see what he had to say about the scene. They could both tell he was already gleaning more evidence from the body than any professional crime scene analyst there. 

Gerard crouched down and lightly grazed the body’s cheek. “She’s barely even cold yet,” he remarked.

“The liar,” Frank read. It was written in blood on her chest. 

“I’m guessing the message wasn’t exclusively for Tara,” Gerard mused. He captured the attention of a staff member on the scene and asked, “Do we know who the victim is?”

“Anna Hickman, sir,” they relayed.

“I’ve gotta call Mikey,” the vampire told his companions. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and speed dialed the number one. 

“What’s up, Gee?” Mikey said through the receiver. 

“Hey Mikes, we need you to run a name for us. Anna Hickman. Anything you got would be helpful.”

An interested hum from Mikey was all Gerard heard before the line went silent for about a minute. Just when Gerard was about to say he would call later, his brother’s voice sounded out.

“She worked at a catering company… Ooh, and guess what, she catered for an event featuring Dante last night!”

“Shit,” Gerard cursed. “Gimme an address for that party, we have to be there stat.” 

“On it, just stay on the line for a sec,” Mikey said.

“Guys!” Gerard called out, “We got a lead here! Let’s get to the car!”

The other two men jogged up to their vehicles. Gerard got into the passenger seat of Frank’s police car, waiting for Mikey to say something over the phone.

“Four two eight nine Everest Road,” Mikey informed. “The party was on the fuckin’ roof. What a rich bitch Dante is…”

Gerard laughed at Mikey, “Yeah, yeah. You wanna be at the station for interrogation?”

“Sure, just tell me what time I have to come in,” Mikey agreed. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye Mikes.” Gerard hung up and turned to Frank, relaying the address of the party. Ray would follow along in his car no problem.

As he was driving, Frank confided, “I don’t like this guy. When I first laid eyes on him in Tara’s bedroom shrine I knew he was bad news.”

Gerard pointed out, “You’ve never even met him. You can’t have an opinion of someone that fast, can you?”

“I so can,” Frank retorted. “It’s human nature to form judgements, to see if you need to use that run, hide, fight shit.”

“That’s when someone breaks into a school, Frank,” Gerard teased.

Frank huffed, “Whatever. I’m just an opinionated person.”

“Oh yeah?” Gerard questioned, smiling cheekily with his small teeth and long fangs. “What was your first impression of me?” He knew it wasn’t a good one; he just wanted Frank to admit it.

“Well, uh…” Frank started. “You sounded like a pretentious know-it-all, to be honest. But you were also really hot, so I didn’t know what to think…” He was blushing by then, a little embarrassed by his admission.

“Aww,” the vampire cooed. “You’re so cute.”

“Shaddup,” Frank grumbled, though not without a smile.

\---

When they got to their destination, servers in black uniforms were collapsing tables, packing up tablecloths, and sweeping the rooftop. Ray managed to approach an important looking woman with a clipboard, asking, “Ma’am, I’m Detective Toro with the NYPD, would you mind answering some questions for us?”

The woman immediately said, “It’s about Anna, isn’t it?”

Ray looked a little startled by her knowledge, but plowed on. “Yes ma’am, it is.”

“Is she really dead?” she asked.

“Unfortunately ma’am, yes she is,” Ray confessed. He went on to point out his colleagues, introducing them to her. 

“I was going to be so mad at her when she came in this morning, but she never showed up,” The lady remarked.

“For what reason would you have been mad at her?” Ray inquired.

“She just walked off in the middle of the party,” she told them. “All I know is she was here one minute and gone the next.”

Gerard suddenly stopped a man carrying a stack of CDs. He took one and showed it to Frank. “Oh my God, it’s him!” Frank whispered. 

Gerard nudged Ray, still in conversation with the woman, and jerked his head, indicating they needed to leave. Ray thanked the lady for her time and swiveled around, asking, “Why are we leaving so soon?”

“We have to get Dante down to the police station like, right now,” Frank said to him. Gerard was already on the phone to Mikey again, asking for the rockstar’s home address. Soon enough, they got the address and were peeling away to confront their main suspect.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♫ hello... it's me... ♫
> 
> Sorry folks, school started a couple weeks ago and even tho I only have two classes it's hectic. I'm also trying to get a job again to help with the family income... I'm seriously thinking about starting a crowdfunding page for us. it's that bad. Enough about me tho! You came here for a story, and a story is what you shall get!

As they approached their destination, Gerard observed the neighborhood. This didn’t look like what he envisioned at all. He predicted that they would live in a rundown home that was clearly in need of care; but what he saw was the exact opposite. Finely manicured lawns, bright colors, luxury cars… It didn’t make sense. 

He relayed his observation to Ray and Frank. “I was sure the area would look the total opposite of this,” he mused. “I’ve never been off this far before.”

“Well,” Frank said, “maybe this isn’t where he actually lives? He could just be sending mail or something here,” he suggested.

“Unlikely, but thanks Frankie,” the vampire replied, patting his counterpart’s hand. 

\---

When they got to the house, they noticed an older blue car sitting in the driveway next to two luxury sports cars. “One of these things is not like the others…” Gerard mumbled to himself. He shot off a quick text to Mikey asking to run the car’s plates. 

The house itself was very modern, composed of glass and concrete. A medium sized abstract statue stood at the front of the house, giving a vibe of contemporary sophistication. 

Just as Frank and Ray were heading to the door, it opened to reveal a tanned man with dark slicked back hair and fashionable attire. “Can I help you guys?” he asked politely. 

“Dante?” Ray asked incredulously. 

“No,” the man answered back warily. 

“You’re not the singer?” Frank stepped in.

“I am,” he replied, “but I’m not Dante; he’s a character I play. My name is Paul Davies. So who are you guys?”

Gerard was still inspecting the car when Mikey texted back, exclaiming in all caps letters that the car was one of the previous victims’. He ran up to the porch as soon as Frank was telling Paul why they were there.

“We’re investigating the murder of-” Frank was cut off by Gerard’s stern voice. “Sir! Would you mind coming back with us to answer some questions?”

“Gee, what are you doing?” Frank questioned in a hushed voice.

“That’s Anna Hickman’s car!” Gerard shouted. He was furious that this poser rock-star wannabe had such a huge piece of evidence sitting in his driveway and he was acting oblivious about it.

“Alright,” Ray placated, trying to divert Gerard’s anger. “Would you mind coming in, sir?”

\---

Outside the NYPD headquarters, a pretty yet plain anchorwoman was talking into a microphone at a television camera. Other news crews were also here to get a good story for the night’s broadcast.

“This is Elizabeth Chambers outside the New York City Police Department with a story we’re still developing,” she informed the viewers. “The singer-songwriter known as Dante has been taken into custody by the NYPD as a suspect in a recent string of murders in the NYC area.” The camera cuts to a picture of Dante, snarling and covered in fake blood. 

At the same time, the two officers, the vampire, and the singer appeared out of a squad car, trying to get into the building. The reporters and camera crews swarmed the vehicle, shouting out questions and demanding answers. 

Before anyone else knew what to do, Gerard exited the car and barked at the crowd, “Make room or I’m gonna personally run over anyone who gets in my way!” His intimidating language and posture, along with his mouth wide open and fangs glistening, made the swarm of people back away for a moment or two, just enough time to grab Dante’s arm from inside the vehicle and haul him out with a jacket over his head. Once Dante was recognized though, all hell broke loose again.  
Ray and Frank hurried out of the car and onto the sidewalk, helping Gerard muscle through the riffraff. 

When they got into the building, Dante shrugged the jacket off and they all breathed a sigh of relief. “Well,” Frank quipped, “I guess the hardest part of the investigation is over.”

Gerard scowled playfully, ushering Dante through the different departments until they got to a quiet interrogation room. He opened the door and motioned for Dante to take a seat. “We’ll be with you soon,” he mumbled. And with that, he shut the door and went on the other side of the interrogation room’s glass wall for observation.

“Okay, we’re gonna let him stew for a little bit before anyone goes in there,” Gerard told the other two. “I think Frank should go talk to him first.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we cross it,” Frank said unenthusiastically. Before Gerard could argue, Ray cut in.

“The plot thickens, my friends,” he chirped. “Paul here was arrested for domestic assault ten years ago,” he informed the other two, handing them papers of proof of arrest. 

“Battery, huh? And expunged too,” Gerard mused. He looked up from the papers to see the singer anxiously pacing the room, trying to get service on his cell phone. 

“He looks rather aggravated,” he observed, “but why?”

“Most celebrities aren’t used to facing the consequences for their actions,” Frank clipped.

“Yeah, but it seems more than that,” the vampire mused.

Ray put in an alternate opinion, offering, “Most of the time these people are used to difference and use other people for their own personal gain. Adoration is their norm.”

“That’s a good angle to go from,” Gerard said. “Frank, you could throw him for a loop with that.”

“Why do I have to be the one to question him?” the short detective whined.

Gerard looked his colleague up and down, gesturing to his entire form. “You look like someone who listens to his music,” he admitted. “If he thought you liked it, he would get more comfortable with you. Ask him to sign this!” he exclaimed, pushing a ‘The Liar’ CD to Frank’s chest. “Oh! And remember,” the vampire added, “if he really does have the vampirist disorder, he’ll be ashamed of it. Tell him you can’t believe someone like him would do this. Give him a lifeline.”

“It’s the tattoos, isn’t it,” Frank grumbled. But nonetheless he went to the next room to get some answers from their resident popstar.

\---

“Mister Davies, take a seat. Please, relax,” Frank asked formally.

“Relax?” Dante retorted, “How am I supposed to relax? I’ve been trying to call my manager but I can’t get any signal!”

“These rooms don’t usually have cell service,” Frank informed the agitated celebrity.

“Is there some other phone I could use?” Dante asked desperately, his eyes wide with fear. “There’s got to be some kind of mistake here.”

“There is no mistake,” Frank started slowly. “I’m sure that you couldn’t have had anything to do with what’s happened.”

Dante looked at Frank in disbelief. “Really?” he pressed, “You’re the one that brought me in here.”

“Frank sighed and conceded, “It seems like the police gave me some bad information.” The detective fidgeted with some papers to look like he was reading them.

“So, you’re not the police?” Dante asked confusedly. 

Behind the glass, Gerard smiled approvingly. Frank was trying to confuse the man; schizophrenics can’t follow complicated twists and turns in speech.

“Neither one of us is the type of person who belongs in an interrogation room,” Frank soothed. “I’m just a guy trying to help you out. My name is Frank. And I obviously know who you are…” he trailed off, putting the CD out where the singer could see it. “I’m a big fan.”

Frank pulled out a permanent marker and put it next to the CD. “I was wondering, before we began, if you would be so kind as to sign this for me?” Frank persuaded.

“What?” Dante spluttered. 

Frank sighed, “Well, it’s just that I don’t get many opportunities like this…”

Dante was back to his riotous behavior again, angrily pushing away the CD and scoffing, “What the hell is this?! You’re no fan of mine!” He turned to the glass window that Gerard and Ray were looking through, calling out, “You people think I’m stupid!”

This caused Gerard to question the rockstar’s mental health. That kind of contradiction should completely confuse a schizophrenic. They shouldn’t be able to make sense of it.

Dante interrupted Gerard’s thoughts, asking Frank tiredly, “Am I suspected of something?”

Frank pursed his lips, gesturing to the CD that was still lying between the two of them. “Your album is called ‘The Liar,’” he stated. “You wanna know the message left in blood on exsanguinated murder victims’ corpses?” He then pulled out some photos from the folder he brought with him, showing the words on the dead bodies.

“Jesus Christ,” Dante breathed. He looked horrorstricken at the pictures before him.

Frank pulled out his coup de grace in the form of one last picture. “This girl’s car is in your driveway,” Frank clarified. “Can you explain that?”

“She’s- she’s dead?” The singer stuttered in utter disbelief. “I- I don’t-… I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember hurting her?” Frank asked skeptically. 

“No,… no…” the other man muttered, beginning to pace the room.

“Mister Davies, are you pretending to be a vampire?” Frank abruptly questioned.

“It’s just a character I play!” Dante shouted. “I am under no delusion that I am an actual vampire! This is madness; I have no clue how that girl ended up dead.”

I think I need my manager here,” the celebrity tried again.

“And why would you need him now, Mister Davies?” Frank pried.

“I’m going to contact him so that he can get me a lawyer,” he answered matter-of-factly.

And with that, Frank took all the pictures and placed them back into his folder and swiftly left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's less than 1,000 words and i hate it but oh well. i think i'm gonna go back through this and plump it up some more. I'm a dialogue driven writer, but i need to create imagery and have have more insight into the characters' minds for the readers to see.

“I’m sorry Frank, there’s nothing we can do now that he wants to lawyer up,” Ray comforted his team member. After Frank had stormed out of the interrogation room, Ray and Gerard were quick to follow him. 

Frank fumed, “Then let him get his damn phone call, he wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“I’ll take him to one of your desks and use the phone there, is that okay as long as I monitor him?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah,” Ray smiled, “That’d be great, Gee. I’m gonna grab a coffee down the road with Frank. Do you want anything?”

“Just the usual, Ray, thanks.” With that, the vampire turned around and made his way back to the interrogation room where Dante sat waiting. When the singer looked up, he seemed to be surprised that it wasn’t Frank opening the door. 

“Alright, you want your phone call?” Gerard growled. “Then let’s get your fuckin’ phone call. Follow me.”

Dante stood up from the table immediately, eager to contact his manager. He dutifully followed Gerard to Frank’s private office and sat where he was indicated to. The consultant poked a couple of buttons on the office phone and handed it to the celebrity. “You’ve got five minutes,” Gerard warned him.

“Okay,” Dante whispered reassuringly to himself before he began to dial his agent’s phone number. It rang a few times before the other line picked up.

“Hello?” Ron, the agent, said into the phone.

“My God, Ron! Am I glad to hear your voice,” Dante sighed. “I’m at the police station, they’ve detained me!”

“Holy shit, man!” Ron said, sounding worried. “Why the hell are you with the cops?”

“They think I’m a murderer!” the singer cried. He was getting increasingly worried that he might actually go to jail for crimes he didn’t commit.

“Okay, listen,” Ron informed, “I’ve got one errand to run and I’ll call your lawyer on the way there. Then I’ll come as soon as possible to get you out of this mess. I know you didn’t do anything. There’s nothing you can be tied to you. I’m gonna fix this.”

“Thank you!” Dante sat back in the chair, relieved. “Please come as soon as you can,” he pleaded.

“I’ll be right there, I promise. I just gotta clear something up beforehand, and then I’ll be right there,” Ron assured. “Hang in there buddy.”

Dante hung up the phone and rested his head in his palms. He could trust Ron, he always knew what to do. 

“Alright, let’s get back,” Gerard spoke suddenly, jolting the singer out of his thoughts.

Begrudgingly, Dante got out of the chair and was led back to the interrogation room. Once he was back inside the room and settled, his escort told him, “I’ll put an officer outside of the door. If you need something, just knock.”

“Thank you,” Dante said quietly. 

“Yeah, no problem,” Gerard replied with a hint of sarcasm. When he was halfway out of the room, the rockstar called out, “Wait!”

“What?” the vampire responded. He wanted that coffee about now to soothe his restlessness. 

“Well,” Dante started, “I know… what you are, and I was wondering what it’s really like, living a lifestyle of that nature,” he admitted.

Gerard snorted, “It’s not nearly as glamorous or gloomy as you depict it.” After that, he closed the door behind him and rounded up an officer, commanding them to keep watch for a little while.

On the way back to Frank’s office, Gerard pulled out his cellphone and dialed Mikey for advice. 

“Lemme guess,” Mikey said in lieu of a conventional greeting, “Dante’s not our guy?”

“I’m thinking not. Got any other ideas?” the older brother requested.

“I’m gonna look for some suspicious characters from the website all those victims were on. Like the chatrooms and boards,” Mikey explained. “It could also point out another potential victim if Dante really isn’t the killer.”

“Thanks. Can you have one or two people in maybe, fifteen minutes?” Gerard bargained.

“I’ll get as many people as I can in less than half an hour, I promise,” Mikey answered. “If something really pops out, I’ll call you earlier.”

“Bye, Mikes,” Gerard said, hanging up. Now if only there was a nice, huge cup of coffee in his hands…

Right on time, Ray and Frank walked into the office. Frank was holding two cups, just like Ray promised. Gerard reached out to receive his coffee and Frank obligingly let him have it without much fuss. Gerard beamed at the human, taking a large gulp of coffee. Frank blushed at the affectionate gesture.

“Okay, so,” Gerard relayed, “Mikey is going over potential killers and victims from the chat sites and stuff he’s viewed. All we gotta do is kick back until he calls.”  
Their moment of peace lasted for about five minutes before Mikey called back with a name.

“Gina. That’s her name. I’ve got fan mail from her to Dante and it’s… there’s no words. Beyond obsessional, that’s for sure. She said she’d kill for him; he’s like a god to her,” Mikey said. 

“So is she killer material?” Frank wondered. “Or is she possibly a threat to the real killer on the basis of obsession?”

“I’m thinking the first,” Mikey grimaced. “You guys ‘oughta check that out right now, or else things could get ugly.”

“Send me the address, we’ll get going immediately,” Gerard intoned. He hung up and was down the corridor like a shot, with Frank and Ray hurrying after him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost done! im gonna do one last very short chapter after this, probably less than 1k in length. might do a short epilogue which i'll inform you of once you've finished this chapter, aka in the end notes.

When the three companions were about to get in a police cruiser, Gerard grabbed Frank’s hand suddenly. “Ray and I are gonna go to Dante’s manager’s place and see what dirt we can get on him. Can you go to Gina’s house and talk to her? We’ll catch up with you if he’s not in his office.”

Frank nodded his affirmative, and Gerard gently brought up their clasped hands to his face to give Frank’s knuckles a swift kiss. “Be safe,” the vampire warned. 

“I-I will,” Frank stuttered as Gerard climbed into the car. He waved, dumbstruck, as Ray drove away. A second later he shook off his shock and hustled to an undercover cop car. 

Once on the road, he texted Mikey asking for Gina’s address. A couple seconds later, he put the coordinates in the car’s GPS and was on his way to the next suspect’s house.

\---

When he arrived, he turned off the car and took a good look at the house in front of him. It was quite large, with a fairly big lawn. It would’ve looked nicer if the grass weren’t dying and the house got remodeled. So basically it was a shit heap. 

“Well Gee, you were right on this one,” Frank muttered to himself. He begrudgingly got out of the car and walked up to the door. He knocked sharply, then listened for any movement from inside the house. When he heard nothing, he rapped on the door again. Shortly after his second knock, a pale young woman with heavy black eye makeup and dark attire whipped the door open.

“Stop, don’t do that; Grandma’s asleep… She’s gonna wake up, so you have to stop it; I have to go to the yard,” she said anxiously, seemingly full of nervous energy. 

“Gina?” Frank asked. She was too far into the house to hear him though. He shut the door behind him and followed her through the rooms. It was dark and supremely cluttered, with junk stacked to the ceiling. Furniture, boxes, books, magazines; you name it, it was in there. There was a narrow footpath weaving through all the clutter, and Frank navigated it as best he could while still trying to talk to Gina. 

“Gina? I’m with the…” he trailed off, watching the girl scuttle through the house, muttering to herself all the while. He caught snatches of what she was saying but nothing fitted into a coherent sentence.

He continued to follow her as she reached the back of her home and into a large backyard, equally in a state of disrepair as the rest of the property. This place was arguably worse than inside the house. He came across mattresses, trash bags, a broken screen door, a chest of drawers, and even a laundry machine as he lost his way in the maze of trash. 

“Gina, where’d you go?” Frank called, worried that either she or himself would get hurt in the dump calling itself a backyard. He made some more random turns, and came upon a horrifying sight.

Gina, still talking to herself, was busily packing what Frank hoped to God wasn’t what he thought it was into styrofoam coolers. She had practically gallons of a dark red, sloshy liquid in jugs and random other liquid containers. She was putting the containers in and pouring mounds of ice into the coolers.

Frank’s eyes widened considerably, shocked at the gory scene in front of him. He didn’t even have time to get out his cell phone before he felt an excruciating pain in the back of his head and heard a loud, metallic clang behind him. Then everything went black.

\---

Meanwhile, Ray and Gerard stopped in front of a moderately tall building with large glass windows and a businesslike atmosphere. They quickly got out and walked to the nearest reception desk.

“Hi,” Ray said, slightly out of breath from having to keep up with Gerard, “Is there any chance Ron is still here today?”

The receptionist looked up at him a little confusedly and asked, “Do you have an appointment?”

Gerard cut the conversation short by snapping, “We’re the cops! Is he here or not?!”

Startled, the receptionist picked up the phone and dialed the appropriate number. After a brief conversation, they relayed, “He got done for the day about twenty minutes ago. Would you like an alternative method of contacting him?”

“No,” the vampire barked, stalking off to the car. Ray shot a quick, “thank you!” on his way out. 

When they were both seated and headed to Gina’s house, Ray asked, “What was up with back there?”

“Something’s wrong,” Gerard grimaced, “but I don’t know what. Something’s telling me there’s danger around but I don’t know where it’s coming from. Just hurry up and get to Gina’s house; use the lights if you have to.”

\---

Frank groggily came to, hearing two voices arguing.

“Who the hell is this guy?!” he heard a man shout in an angry and somewhat scared tone.

Gina was crying now, saying things like, “It’s all going bad! He’s gonna be so mad at me…” 

The man yelled, “That doesn’t matter! You gotta kill him now too!”

Amidst their quarrelling, Frank heard his cellphone vibrate. He found it in the grass a little ways away and tried to reach for it, but his head hurt too much to even move. He saw the Caller ID through double vision, realizing it was Gerard. 

“Listen to me,” the man went on, “We gotta help Dante, okay? Just one more time. Just this guy, and then it’s over. You and Dante will be together for all eternity after this.”

“Okay, okay… Just this one…last one…” Gina mumbled, taking the sharp instrument the man held up for her.

“One more, that’s it. And then yourself, like we talked about, so you can be with Dante,” the man falsely reassured, patting Gina on the back lightly. 

\---

Gerard and Ray spotted Frank’s vehicle at Gina’s house. They rushed out of the car and looked around, checking if Frank was close by. 

Gerard tested the front door, which opened without resistance, and walked into the dingy house. He called Ray over and they followed the footpath to the back door and swung it open. Gerard immediately smelled blood, but it wasn’t fresh. He gestured with his head for Ray to follow him and then took off at a fast pace. He could hear a commotion up ahead, getting louder as he got closer. He and Ray stumbled onto the scene just in time.

\--- 

Gina made her way over to Frank who, to their surprise, was not there anymore. He lurched over to strike the man with his gun from behind, hoping to knock him out in a similar fashion to himself. 

“Don’t move,” He weakly commanded to Gina, but she wasn’t paying any attention anymore. She was fascinated with the man’s crumpled form, with some blood on his head from the impact of Frank’s gun. 

Hearing other noises from the yard, Frank blearily looked up to see Ray and Gerard come upon the scene. 

“Oh my God,” Ray whispered, and Gerard got out a handkerchief to cover his mouth and nose from the overwhelming smell of all the blood. 

They saw Gina crouched over Ron, tossing chunks of ice at Frank and saying faintly, “Mine… This is mine, go away. You can’t have it…”

They sprang into action: Gerard swooping in and picking up Frank as if he were a small animal and cradling him to his chest. Ray pulled out his gun and aimed it at Gina, yelling, “Get your hands where I can see them!” 

Gerard gently propped Frank up against the laundry machine and took his walkie-talkie off of his companion’s vest. He called in for backup and an ambulance straightaway. He then shouted over to Ray, “Have you got her under control?!”

“Barely!” Ray called back. “She’s nonviolent but won’t listen to anything I say!”

“Okay,” Gerard responded, “Just keep her there until the others can come and get her!”

The vampire then turned to the poor slumped figure on the ground. He crouched down and took Frank’s head in his hands, watching his pupils for signs of concussion. 

“Frankie?” he whispered. “You with me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Frank mumbled back, “I’m okay.”

“You’re gonna be just fine, but don’t go to sleep alright?” Gerard assured. “I know you want to but you can’t go to sleep yet, okay?”

Gerard concentrated on the sound of Frank’s heartbeat, noting it was slower than normal. He had to focus on Frank, or else he’d go absolutely insane with all the blood around him. Maybe this olfactory torture would encourage the vampire to feed more, as he never did around humans.

Soon enough, backup was on the scene. Officers had to drag Gina away from Ron, who was now rousing, as she was screaming, “No no no no no no! It’s gonna go bad! The blood- it’s- please, no!”

They hauled Ron up, hearing his protests of, “Hey! I got nothin’ to do with this! It’s not me, it’s the chick!”

Gerard picked Frank up again, ready to hand deliver him to the ambulance. He growled in the face of all the blood filled containers scattered around from Gina’s tantrum. One of them broke open and was oozing dark red all over the ground. He tore his eyes off it and hurried away, depositing Frank on a stretcher out front. 

“If there are any vampires doing the aftermath of this case, don’t let them go in the backyard,” he warned the officers on the scene. Oddly, they all looked more wary of his presence than usual. He chalked it up to what he just said. He then walked over to Ray’s car, where he got the privilege to escort Gina to the station. 

“I’m gonna take the car Frank drove over here to the hospital,” he informed, leaning in the passenger window to talk to Ray. 

“Cool,” was Ray’s short and sweet reply. On an afterthought, he tentatively asked Gerard, “You okay man? ‘Cuz you got the whole,” he gestured to his eyes, “thing going on.”

“Oh!” he realized. “They’re red again, aren’t they?” 

Indeed they were. He knew his crimson irises popped up when he needed to feed, but lately his eyes had been a mix of rusty red and hazel for a while now. As soon as he thought about it, he did notice the way everything was more saturated and intense; from his sight, to his smell, to his hearing. 

“I bet the hospital wouldn’t be opposed to sneaking me a bag, would they?” he wondered aloud.

Ray laughed, “Just get something from the vending machine, you cheapskate!” 

Gerard rubbed his face and sighed. “Yeah, but that stuff just doesn’t do it for ya, you know?”

“No,” Ray said thoughtfully, “I don’t know.”

The vampire barked a short laugh and conceded, “Alright, well I’m gonna follow the ambulance to the hospital and help get Frank checked in. I’ll call you once he’s settled so you can visit.”

“See you later then,” Ray waved, shooing Gerard off. 

When Gerard got into the other car, he took a moment to reflect on the day’s events. So much had happened that was hard to recall everything. He’ll have to make a report soon enough, though. 

He heaved a huge sigh and turned the car on. His next job was to see Frank to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue of Gerard visiting Gina in the penitentiary for the mentally ill she ends up in? yay or nay? how do you think she'd react to a real life vampire coming to see her? did you like this one? should i do another one? shoot a comment at me!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think i might change some things about the last two chapters, but for now i think i'm ok with them...

When Gerard arrived at the hospital, he immediately went to the front desk and asked about Frank’s whereabouts.

“Excuse me, can Frank Iero have visitors yet?” he asked a nurse at the ER’s check in desk.

“Relationship to the patient?” the nurse droned.

He automatically replied, “Partner,” because, well, what’s what they were at the Police Department. He didn’t even realize the other connotation until it was too late. 

“Sure,” the nurse said, “just fill out these forms. He’s in room one eighty-seven.”

A clipboard with a stack of papers was thrust into the vampire’s hands and he was promptly moved along, seeing as the emergency room was always full. 

As he walked away from that ward of the hospital, he skimmed through the papers that he was handed. All of the forms called for Frank’s personal information, which Gerard certainly did not have. He sighed and made his way to his companion’s room.

When he got to the right room, he knocked softly and heard a small, “come in” through the door. He cautiously opened the door to find Frank settled in a crisp and sterile hospital bed with a slew of bandages around his head. Gerard noticed that he looked very small and a little dazed swaddled in the hospital’s white sheets. 

“Hi, Frank,” he greeted softly, not wanting to aggravate Frank’s condition.

“Hi, Gee,” Frank echoed weakly.

“So,” Gerard started, “you got that concussion after all, huh?”

“Yeah,” Frank sighed, “but I’m only here overnight and then I can go home, so it’s not that bad.”

Gerard gave Frank a tight smile and said, “Well, I’ve got a lot of forms here for you, but I’m sure they can wait until the morning.”

“Please,” Frank groaned, “the last thing I want to do right now is fill out some fuckin’ papers.”

Gerard laughed in understanding and placed the clipboard on a bedside table. He pulled up a chair next to Frank’s bed and sat down heavily, glad to be off his feet. 

“I need to go back to the station soon and release Dante from custody, but if you’d like, I can come back and stay the night here with you,” he offered.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” Frank said. “You’re definitely not gonna be comfortable sleeping on that dinky couch.” He pointed to a little loveseat in the corner of the room.

“Ah, but you forget that I don’t need sleep at night,” Gerard teased lightly. “I can just bring a book or something, anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Frank conceded. “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you get back, but the nurses have to wake me up every hour because of the concussion.”

“That settles it then,” Gerard decided. He gave Frank his promise of coming back soon and a peck on the forehead before he swept out of the room, not failing to see Frank’s heavy lidded eyes and a yawn escape from his mouth.

\---

Gerard walked back into the interrogation room where they had kept Dante for questioning. As soon as he opened the door, he was greeted with an indignant, “What took everyone so long? I’ve been sitting in here for hours!”

The vampire pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling. Dante noticed the gesture and asked warily, “Has something happened?”

“It was your manager,” Gerard spit out. 

“Jesus Christ,” Dante breathed unbelievingly. 

Gerard took a seat at the table in the center of the room, beckoning Dante to sit with him.

“He used a fan of yours to commit the murders…” he said with a grimace. “He fed her lies, and she was in a very vulnerable state mentally.”

Dante held his head in his hands, too overwhelmed at the thought of his good friend carrying out such notorious deeds. 

“But why?” he finally asked. “This isn’t the Ron I know. Why would he do this?”

“It was for publicity,” Gerard admitted. “He thought he could use the murders to promote your CD.”

He continued, “He was right though. Your album is doing very well; it’s selling out everywhere.”

“I never wanted any of this,” the singer lamented. “All I wanted to do was make music… I’m not sure when that stopped being enough.” After a few moments of silence, he questioned, “What is going to happen to the girl? I’d like to help her, if I can.”

“She’s going to a facility where they can take care of her. If they decide it’s okay, you may be able to visit her. I can take you there when I find out where she’s being treated,” Gerard suggested.

“I would very much like that,” Dante responded. “Is there anything else the police force needs of me?”

“No, you’re free to go.” The vampire ushered the celebrity out of the room and to a taxi. 

“Here.” Gerard handed Dante his card with his phone number and e-mail on it. “If you need to contact me.”

“Thank you Detective Way.” Dante did a little salute with his card, and then he was driven off into the New York City evening traffic.

\---

Gerard went back to the hospital with some paperwork from the case that he needed to fill out and a book to pass the rest of the time. When he got back to Frank’s room, he drifted to the chair by Frank’s bedside and sat to watch over his bedridden partner. He thought about his and Frank’s budding relationship, and what he could do to carefully take a step further. He quite enjoyed Frank’s company, despite his initial distaste for his strong personality. Modern day dating was nothing like it was when he was young, and he was a little at a loss for what to do. Maybe he’ll ask someone to help him out…


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after all this time, i finally finish this work properly! I'm glad i could wrap this up. i've been thinking about this scene for a long time and i'm happy i finally got it down for you all. if you want another work to the series, or have a suggestion on an episode of a show i could derive another story from, don't hesitate to comment!

Gerard pulled up to the gate of the New York State Psychiatric Hospital, with Paul in the passenger seat. He had stopped his musical career temporarily and retired the name ‘Dante’ for good. He felt that he couldn’t use the stage name to make money anymore; not after the lives it had cost. He wanted to start from the ground up as himself, not a (probably offensive) caricature of a real group of people. 

Gerard had invited him to go see the poor girl his agent had manipulated into madness. He had no contact with his former agent and friend, and actually testified against him in court. The girl, Gina, was sent to the state hospital to help her condition. The vampire had contacted him to see if he wanted to visit her, and of course, he agreed. 

They were beckoned through the gates and into the parking lot. Gerard sighed, then asked Paul, “You ready? I don’t have exact details of her condition, but someone with her mental illness may not be very coherent. I honestly don’t know how this is going to go at all.”

Paul took a deep breath and replied, “I’m ready. I feel like I have a certain responsibility to check on her. It was my music that started it all, anyway.”

Gerard put a comforting hand on the former singer’s shoulder. “Listen,” he started, “none of this was your fault. It was a ‘wrong place wrong time’ situation. Nobody blames you because you had no part in any of the crimes. It was an unfortunate coincidence. That’s it. It could have happened to any musician with a dedicated fanbase.”

Paul flashed an appreciative smile and said, “Alright then. Let’s get on with it.”

They got out of the car and proceeded to the front door. They went through all of the security measures in order to enter the facility safely, and were assigned an orderly to escort them to their destination.

Before they entered Gina’s room, the orderly turned to the two of them and informed, “She’s in a kind of fragile state right now, and we don’t know what her triggers are, conversational or otherwise. All her file says is she has a Schizophrenic disorder with accompanying Clinical Vampirism. I have to ask, because it might exacerbate her condition, but are either of you vampires?”

Gerard sheepishly raised his hand. The orderly handed him a surgical mask. 

“Just so that she can’t see your mouth,” they explained. He nodded, securing the mask on his face. 

The orderly turned back to the door and knocked before they all went into the room. “Gina?” the orderly chirped in a false tone, “You have some visitors!”

Gina was sitting on her bed, facing away from the door, looking outside a small window in her room. She unfortunately had to keep her in a straightjacket for the first part of her stay so she didn’t hurt herself. When she turned to see her visitors, they could see the trauma on her face. Her face was sallow and her eyes looked dull and dispirited. 

“I have some folding chairs for you gentlemen,” the orderly said as they unfolded the seats for Gerard and Paul. They thanked them and sat down in front of Gina. 

“Hi Gina, I’m Paul,” the ex-singer introduced himself. “I heard about what happened to you and I came to tell you I’m sorry, and hopefully we can become friends. If you want, I can come and see you during visiting hours and we can get to know each other better. How does that sound?”

She stared at his face for a couple seconds before replying, “I’d like that… You look like someone I know. Have we met before?”

“I’ve not had the honor before,” Paul said. 

Gina abruptly turned to Gerard and asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m just here for Paul’s support. My name is Gerard,” he offered. 

She continued her line of questioning, “Why do you have a mask on?”

“I, uh, get sick more often than most people,” he explained carefully. 

She seemed to buy it, and moved on to another subject. “Could you get me twizzlers? I really like them, but I don’t think I can get them here…”

Paul laughed lightly and reassured, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll try to get you some next time I visit, how about that?”

“Okay,” she replied tonelessly.

Paul stole a quick look at Gerard then stood up. “Well, I think this is all the time we’re allowed to talk today. I’ll come when everyone has visiting hours. Does that sound good, Gina?”

“Okay,” she repeated, looking back out the window and tuning out of the conversation. Gerard followed Paul’s lead, figuring they wouldn’t get much more out of Gina. 

The orderly lead them out, giving Paul information about scheduled visiting hours. When they were back in the car, Paul inquired, “Is that normal behavior for someone with her condition?”

“Kind of,” Gerard clarified. “It’s different for everyone. Some people have delusions, some people don’t interact with the outside world altogether.” 

Paul looked down, silently contemplating. “I just feel terrible,” he said quietly. “I know there’s nothing I can do, but I still feel like I contributed to her illness somehow.”

“Just be there for her. She needs a constant in her life. Stability. She’ll be alright,” the vampire assured him.

Gerard started up the car and drove to the gates. They were waved through, and they drove off, feeling differently about their lives after their experience at the hospital.


End file.
